


it is what it is and it hurts

by sebbie



Category: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Confrontations, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebbie/pseuds/sebbie
Summary: Nebula doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, “We both lost something in Vormir.”Clint snarls. She had no right. She had no fucking right. The way he jerks his body is nearly enough for the arrow to slip through his fingers. If it did, he wouldn’t have even regretted it. Remorse probably wouldn’t come after the fact either. He’s killed other people, more people, for lesser things.“I don’t see myself enjoying the same luxury you are.” Clint grits out through his teeth, anger and sorrow darkening his voice. “My sister is still dead. Natasha will remain dead.”
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	it is what it is and it hurts

**Author's Note:**

> [it is what it is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIbugnP7Uuo)

And then it clicks.

It fucking clicks.

He’s sitting there, surrounded by more than a dozen faces, both familiar and not, when it clicks.

It comes out of nowhere, really. Just a random thought that’s suddenly louder than the other noises around him. It drowns the happy screams from the children chasing after each other, it smothered the droning of the gossiping adults.

Most surprisingly of all, it outshone the huge grin on his daughter’s face—a thing he wouldn’t have imagined possible until that moment. But where Lila’s beaming face is warm and bright, the realization that hits him is a sharp glint not unlike sunlight striking a bullet headed straight for your brain.

And like a fucking bullet, it hits him from out of _fucking nowhere_ , so suddenly that he’s just out of his house without so much as an explanation. From a father filled with so much joy seeing his family after believing for so long that he’s lost them forever, Clint is reduced to a fleeting shadow.

His wife notices him leave, still bemused even though she’s become entirely too used to his disappearing acts.

Clint was watching Lila in a very comical sword fight with her friends when the thought struck him. He couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would’ve been if Lila could’ve gotten another birthday where Auntie Nat would play fight with her and willingly lose (he tries— _tried_ —to act protective because why the fuck would he let a dangerous assassin play fight with her daughter, but Lila is tough and he knew Nat would die for his kids — a conviction that became an awful truth, Clint thinks belatedly— and, anyway, it was amusing how horribly theatric Natasha could get when Lila “defeated” her).

Clint is watching one of the happiest days in his life unfold before his eyes and, inevitably, missing Natasha when the realization hits him.

This is how he ends up with an exploding arrow pointed towards Nebula’s head. Her hands are held up, posture relaxed, looking too frustratingly calm he’s just tempted to shoot her right fucking there.

She’s a funky space robot chick with enough upgrades to rip him apart if he let his guard down just a bit. But he’s not a well-trained special agent-slash-assassin-slash-Avenger for nothing. So, Clint manages to gain the upper hand and corner her. She has nowhere to run and if she so much as twitches it was _buh-bye_. At this point, Clint gave zero fucking shits about how reformed she is, how many people she’s helped, or her mending relationship with her sister.

“You set us up,” he seethes, the grip on his bow tightening a fraction, “You fucking set us up.”

Nebula tilts her head, voice even, she replies, “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Vormir.”

A flicker of realization, understanding, maybe even regret, passes across her black eyes, too fleeting to be pinned down. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light.

“You knew the cost. You knew one of us would have to die.” The back of Clint’s throat burns. His eyes sting.

Natasha’s face just before she falls keeps flashing before his eyes. The image of her body at the base of the cliff is embedded in his brain. A loved one lost forever.

Nebula doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, “We both lost something in Vormir.”

Clint snarls. She had no right. She had _no fucking right_. The way he jerks his body is nearly enough for the arrow to slip through his fingers. If it did, he wouldn’t have even regretted it. Remorse probably wouldn’t come after the fact either. He’s killed other people, _more_ people, for lesser things.

“I don’t see myself enjoying the same luxury you are.” Clint grits out through his teeth, anger and sorrow darkening his voice. “My sister is _still_ dead. Natasha will _remain_ dead.”

For once, Nebula startles, “I never could have predicted how Gamora would—”

“And _that_ makes it okay?” Clint shouts, pulling harder at the bowstring. His fingers are starting to tremble and sweat. The arrow will slip and Nebula will be reduced to broken parts. Clint doesn’t care, he just doesn’t—

“ _Whatever it takes_.” Nebula says quietly, eyes averted and head bowed down, “Isn’t that what the captain said?”

Clint doesn’t reply, jaw clenching tightly. His eyes flash, resentment intermingled with resignation and sadness.

“I had to do what was necessary in order to defeat Thanos.” Nebula’s voice never once trembles, her voice becomes louder as she continues. Though regret tinges her tone, she sounded undoubtedly resolute. “To bring back all the lives he took.”

Clint takes a harsh breath in. Not willing to speak, or maybe unable too.

They were the ones left behind. Lost, broken, grieving for a broken world and their disappeared loved ones. Clint became angry and bitter. A shadow of the man he used to be. A ghost in one breath and a smothering fire in the other.

They were all willing to do whatever it took to bring back all the lives that were lost after the first snap. _~~But Natasha always understood sacrifice better than he did.~~_

Thanos’ casualties included his own family. Family he now gets to see again, to hold, to love, to cherish over, to better protect—and he’s grateful, happy, relieved.

He remembers the swirling void of agony and desolation that gorged his chest, left his limbs heavy and his eyes clouded with rage. Clint remembers blood-soaked hands and the taste of iron filling his mouth.

He wanted to punish the world because he couldn’t touch the man who took everything from him.

When the opportunity presented itself, he was ready to die. Not because he genuinely believed doing so would save the world—he wasn’t that selfless—but because he wanted to atone for becoming the kind of murderous machine he’d become when he lost his family.

 _But Nat…_ Natasha was ready to die too. Not just for herself, for the atonement and redemption she so desperately wanted, but because she believed, more than he ever did, that they could succeed and Clint would have his family back. Natasha was unwilling to let him leave his family without a father.

Clint is plagued with a hundred different questions he can never truly answer.

Would it have been fair to Natasha if he had died only to let her witness the pain of a family who lost a loved one trying to bring them back?

Clint had no doubts Natasha would’ve made sure his family would be well taken care off. But it probably would have left her with more guilt than she deserved. Even if it were _his_ choice to die, Natasha would still wind up believing his blood was on _her_ hands.

Then she would be plagued with what-ifs. She would torture herself with the belief she should have been the one to die. Clint knew her well enough to know all these things would be true. But more than that, he knew what would plague her if he had died in her stead because it’s what he was battling with now.

Guilt. Anger. Resignation. 

And a hundred other things like a maelstrom constantly churning in his gut.

An endless cycle worsened by the haunting image of Natasha’s broken body. It wakes him up at night with nightmares worst than anything he’s ever had to live with.

Clint bows his head in defeat.

He lets the arrow go.

It explodes against the wall above their heads a couple ways off. The wall turns into rubble and Nebula remains intact.

When Clint brings his eyes back to Nebula, she meets his gaze unflinchingly.

“If you so much as step one toe out of line the next arrow won’t miss.”

Nebula’s only response is to smile sadly. There is understanding in her eyes and something else akin to pity. Clint hates it.

He turns around, focused on not missing anymore time with his family, and leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old fic I found (dated: 23 apr 2019, 11:11 PM) in my folders while deleting some stuff. i got curious because the only title it had was "because fuck you i have feelings too" it's largely unedited and i decided to post it here cause i didn't want it to go to waste


End file.
